Not This Haunting Again
by Oceanmistsupporter
Summary: Patricia dreams of the all-too-familiar dream of Rufus Zeno...AGAIN...is she starting to doubt the obituary notice? Two-shot. Peddie relationship, and Patrome friendship - relationship, if you squint. ...RUFUS IS THE COLLECTOR, I KNOW IT.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: This is set the night after Piper and Patricia fool Eddie and Mr. Sweet.)**

_The moment Patricia's eyes open, she opens her mouth to speak._

_"Not this shit again."_

_Almost immediately, she's on her feet, whipping her head back and forth. Damn. When's the last time she had this dream? It's been a while…_

_But it doesn't matter now, because she's having it now, and fuck, that isn't good. Patricia can only think of three things that truly scare her. First, feelings—that includes the whole Eddie drama. Second, feet. And third, this dream. The man in this dream._

_She's screwed._

_She wants to run—but run where? He can be anywhere here—it doesn't matter if he came from northeast last time, or Southwest the time before that. He's unpredictable._

_She adjusts the hem of her dress. Dress? Oh, low blow, dreamland—make her feel even _more_ exposed. Her feet are bare—God, she hates feet…—and the ground is hard beneath her._

You better get a move on, Trixie._ She thinks to herself, not daring to speak._

_Without thinking, she runs Southeast, the ground ripping at her exposed feet. She's in the woods, in the thick part of it. She remembers meeting him in the woods—but not these woods. These are overgrown and thick and brambles are cutting away at her exposed skin. Well, this isn't fun._

_"Hi, Patricia." She skittles to a halt, and whips her head around. A gasp escapes her mouth—was he really powerful enough to do that? She's been in many embarrassing situations—including the time that Eddie called her out on her bluff about hating him. She will someday have the name "Pokerface Patricia" as she sits in a circle, holding her cards, her face giving away nothing. But not today._

_She thinks too much, because the man she fears most is standing in front of her with a teasing smirk._

_"Rufus." Her voice is shaky—maybe she shouldn't speak at all._

_"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He smiles. His ice-blue eyes penetrate her; they see deep inside of her, and can see every single emotion which is threatening to explode out like a storm. "No longer afraid of me?"_

_"You're dead." She forces it out of her. She's shaking from head-to-toe, and she grips her sides tightly. "You can't hurt me. You can't hurt anyone anymore." _

_"You're going to regret saying that." He says simply._

_He takes a step toward her, and that's enough to make Patricia start sprinting in the other direction. The breeze hits her face, blowing her hair back. She catches a glimpse of her hands as she runs. Is it just her, or is her skin glimmering? She glances at her russet-red hair whipping behind her—is it turning brighter and brighter? Her vision begins to pulse as everything begins to shine, and she forces herself to stop._

_In the haze of the terror, she hears a voice. And it's not Rufus's creepy, British drawl._

_"Patricia, is that you?"_

_The voice is accented and his question ends with his voice dropping. She hasn't known this American boy for that much over a month, but Goddamn, she's fallen hard. Not that she'd ever admit it, though._

_"Eddie," She whips around, her vision returning long enough so she can see his face. He looks just as disoriented as she does—his normally spiked blonde-brown hair fallen over his forehead, and his eyes trying to make out things in open air. _

_He tries to make his way over to her, but she moves to him and grabs his arm."It's okay," She soothes. "I'm going to get us out of here, okay?"_

_"Where are we?" He whimpers. He seems so much unlike his usual, cocky self._

_"Hell." She responds simply. "Okay…just hold onto me…I'll get us out of this joint."_

_She needs to stay strong. This is the only instant when she's running off in terror, screaming her head off. She doesn't show fear—she doesn't know _how_ to show fear. Only in these instances is the horror threatening to overwhelm her._

_When she has these dreams, it isn't her that she cares about. Call her selfless, but there always seems to be someone else to save. Most of the time it is Joy, her very best friend. This is Eddie, though, and this is the first time he's appeared in this type of dream. She has to try._

_Her vision is becoming blurred again; she grips Eddie's arm tighter. "Don't let go of me." She whispers._

_"I won't." His shaky voice replies._

_She moves farther along, trying to make sense of the surroundings. She feels Eddie's grip loosen, and she struggles not to protest. She looks up and sees the trees spiraling above her. Her stomach heaves as everything swirls around her, and she fights the urge to puke._

_She closes her eyes, trying to focus. Her focus is all she has left—she can't lose it, not now. The line between dream and reality begins to blur, just as it always does. She takes a deep breath, one, two, three. Finally she realizes._

_Eddie has let go of her. She turns around slowly, trying to keep her vision balanced. "Eddie? Where are you?"_

_No response._

_"Eddie!" She cries out, her voice thick with desperation. _

_"Turn around."_

_The icy voice is back, and Patricia closes her eyes and swallows. She turns around, and sees the sight._

_Rufus, standing there, with his pale brown hair and his icy eyes, with Eddie completely imprisoned in his grasp. He's holding a knife, which is positioned against Eddie's neck. Patricia opens her mouth to say something, but no words come._

_"Scared yet?" Rufus teases. "I thought you said a while ago that you weren't afraid of me." _

_"I-I-I am not." She stutters out. "You…You're dead, Rufus. You can't k-kill him, even if you wanted to. Just like you can't kill Joy."_

_"Patricia." Rufus says, almost teasing. He pauses as Patricia locks eyes with Eddie. The terror in the dark depths is almost too much… Once Patricia focuses her weary, blurry gaze on Rufus again, he goes on. "Don't you see? I lived to be ninety-five and I look like I'm in my early thirties. I can do pretty much everything—I could have killed you when I kidnapped you, but I didn't. I can do anything I damn well please—including this."_

_Before Patricia can stop him, he slices the knife across Eddie's throat, and she watches the light die from his eyes._

* * *

><p>She springs awake.<p>

She watches as everyone else does, too. How? Did she scream in her sleep or something? Must of, because now everyone is surrounding her, asking what is wrong.

"Dream…dream…" Patricia gets out. She rubs her arms, feeling goose bumps explode over her skin like a tiny, organized army of…goose bumps.

Familiarity springs into Joy's soft brown eyes. Patricia nods back, hoping that she gets the message. The message of, _Yes, THAT dream._ Joy gives a tiny nod, and steps back.

"A dream of what?" Mara asks innocently. Well, of course. She's the most innocent girl here! She has no idea of Sibuna, or the immortality, or anything!

"It's just…I don't want to talk about it." Patricia gets out, but it isn't enough.

Piper, her twin, who sleeps on the floor since she's been staying with them secretly, lifts her head up in curiosity. "You okay, Trixie?"

"No…" Patricia stumbles. "Just…I…"

She stands up quickly and moves toward the door. "I need to cool down," She says over her shoulder.

"Wait, Patricia—" Joy protests.

"Just—" Patricia doesn't bother to finish her sentence, because she's already closing the door, and stepping into the girls' hallway. It must be around two in the morning, because everyone is silent, everything is silent, anything is silent. She rubs her arms, the goose-bumps having not disappeared, and sighs. She needs to stop this. Rufus is dead. He is dead.

She makes her way down the stairs. The urge to check on Eddie is almost undeniable—what if he was in his bed, his throat slit? What if that part of the dream came true? _What if you're crazy, Patricia, for thinking this way?_ She scolds herself. _Get a grip._

Swallowing, she makes her way to Eddie and Fabian's room, and braces herself to knock on the door. The day before, she tricked Eddie by using Piper to pretend it was her. They haven't actually _spoken_ since, but still. She needs to know if he's still breathing…

She knocks on his door, as quiet as possible so she doesn't wake Victor. Once. Twice. Three times. Okay, screw this. She opens the unlocked door, letting light flood in.

Fabian is asleep. But Eddie isn't. He's on his laptop, screamo music blaring through his headphones. He looks up, seeing Patricia standing at his doorway.

"Oh, so you finally come around, eh?" He says teasingly. "But, wait. Am I looking at Piper or am I looking at Patricia?"

"Who do you think, weasel?" She snarls at him. She wasn't in the mood for this!

"Patricia, definitely." He mutters, smirking.

Patricia rolls her eyes. Okay, he's fine. There's no need to linger here, or he'll just call her out on more of the bullshit she committed last evening. She's already turning away when he stands up and approaches her.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks, finally getting the hint. Her hair is all messed up and she can guess that her eyes were empty from all of the restless dreaming.

"Peachy." She shrugs. "Doesn't matter. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Eddie stares at the nightgown she's wearing. She really needs to burn them soon—they're so exposing and she hates them to death. "How come you never wear this for me?"

"It's a nightgown, Eddie." Patricia glares at him.

"Well, you should wear it more often." He says with a wink, tracing his fingers along the bottom of the lace. "It's very endearing."

Patricia grins back. "We'll see." Had it been, say, a few weeks earlier, Eddie would have said the same thing. But then she would have said, "I'd rather wear a sweatshirt made of needles, you slimeball!" It's funny how dating can change people.

Patricia slips out of his room, and breathes a sigh of relief. It's okay. Her boyfriend is safe. Irritating, but safe. As always.

She doesn't want to go back upstairs. She has a feeling that she'll simply slip back into that dream realm. She can feel Rufus's ice blue eyes staring at her, saying teasingly, "Come on, Patricia. What are you afraid of?"

_You, Jackass._ She thinks to herself. She walks into the kitchen area and pulls out a bottle of whipped cream. She sits on the couch, the moonlight shining through the windows being the only light, and sprays the cream into her mouth.

Minutes later, she hears a door open. Patricia freezes and moves out of the window's way, so no one saw her. She hears someone creeping around, and her skin is alive with bumps again. She imagines Rufus making his way back to the house, sneaking into here…

The moonlight catches a glint of a tall, skinny body, and there's only one person it could belong to. _Jerome._ She thinks, rolling her eyes. Fantastic. Now she has to deal with the other annoying slimeball in the house.

He opens the fridge as well, looking around. Patricia can hear him muttering. "Oh, come on. Who took my whipped cream?"

Patricia's lips curl into a grin.

"Me."

"Gah!" Jerome jumps, and Patricia has to fight off a laugh. "Who's there?"

"The queen of darkness." She rolls her eyes and walks over to Jerome. "Here's your whipped cream."

"What are you doing up?" Jerome asks, running a hand through his pale hair.

"Eating whipped cream. Come on, Jerry, do you really think I'm bounded by rules here?"

"Don't call me Jerry. Just because your boyfriend does, doesn't mean you have the privilege to."

"I'm not calling you that because of him."

"Oh, please. Before Edison came along, I was slimeball, or weasel. Now you call him that. So you have to resort to Jerry?" Moonlight glints off of Jerome's blue eyes. "Not very original, Trixie."

"Whatever." Patricia sits at the table, watching Jerome thrust the nozzle of the can into his mouth. "What are you doing up?"

"Nightmare." He says nonchalantly. "Needed some comfort food, that's all."

Patricia freezes.

"Nightmare?" She half-whispers.

"Yeah, it was horrifying. My ex had come back to our boarding school, and I think I almost had a stroke. Not good. Why you look so choked up?" Jerome asks, glancing back at her.

She stares back at him, no coherent words forming.

"You had a nightmare too?" Jerome asks, laughing. "I should have figured—you never leave your room without make-up and your hair done. A nightmare, eh? Wow, Trixie, I didn't know fear fazed you."

Patricia grits her teeth. _If only you knew._

"Well, come on now. Who'd you dream of? I don't think you have any exes… Or is it Eddie? Aw, did you two break up already? Shame—that guy stares at you all the time. And you always shoot him down. It's too bad that—"

"I dreamt of Rufus."

Silence.

Because that's all it takes. When it comes to Rufus, both she and Jerome had the firsthand experience on how terrifying he was. No one else knew just how deadly he could be. Could he understand? Could he possibly understand?

"…Oh…oh, that." Jerome sounds very quiet, and his eyes are wide. Patricia looks away, her heart panging. She shouldn't have brought it up. Rufus isn't a discussion they like to discuss.

"Patricia…we don't have to worry about him anymore." Jerome steps closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You showed me the obituary notice yourself. There is no way he can be alive."

"It doesn't matter." Patricia says through rows of teeth. "You've dreamt of him too. You've felt his embrace. Don't talk to me like I'm crazy—he's watching both of us!"

Silence again.

"You're running through a forest." Jerome speaks quietly. "It looks like the woods right beside the library, but they never end. They just continue to stretch on for miles, and no matter how far you run, you'll never get out. And no matter which way you turn, he's there."

"He's either chasing you, or someone you love." Patricia adds to the story. "And your vision distorts. You can't focus."

"He always finds you. Every time. Without fail." Jerome whispers.

Patricia rubs the sides of her arms, trembling.

"He can haunt us all he likes." Jerome closes his eyes briefly. "It doesn't matter, because he's not alive."

"He'll find us."

"He can't. Even if he wanted to. I guess he found out he wasn't immortal the hard way."

Patricia blinks several times, before saying, "…What if he faked it?"

Jerome stares at her with wide blue eyes.

"He couldn't have."

"What if he did?"

"Trixie, don't talk that way!" Jerome hisses. "The man is dead, and there's nothing he, or anyone else, can do about it! We're free now, don't you get it?"

"So you've thought it too?" Patricia challenges.

"Keep your voice down!" Jerome growls quietly. "And there is no way!"

"You've woken up from a dream thinking, 'He's still out there, isn't he?'" Patricia balls her hands into fists. "You have, haven't you?"

"Stop it!" Jerome snaps. "There's no use conspiring these theories! He is dead!"

Patricia takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Opening them again, she can see Jerome, outlined completely by moonlight.

"You're probably right." Her voice sounds icy. "I'm probably just haunted by his spirit. But I can feel him, Jerome. He's here beside me, and he won't leave me alone. He's going to find us. And we're going to regret it. Don't say I didn't warn you."

**(A/N: GAH. RUFUS IS THE COLLECTOR. HE IS HE IS HE IS.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: There is a lot of Patrome friendship in this. I support Peddie more but my heart will always have a soft spot of Patrome.)**

_"Enough!"_

The second Jasper pulls the hood, Jerome feels time stop. He can only see the back of the man's head, but that's enough. In the brief second that lasts an eternity between this man turning his head to reveal himself, Jerome feels himself being whipped back to a darker, horrible place. Running through a woods, clothes and skin being ripped to ribbons by unforgiving brambles, everything on the line, just running and running and running…

This is a dream.

_Yes,_ Jerome thinks. _THIS is the dream, and soon, I'll be running through the woods. This is the dream, and all I have to do is wake up._

But he doesn't.

And those dreams don't start out this way, either. They start with him lost in the world of trees, surrounding and imprisoning him. This isn't how it starts.

What's happening?

He remembers himself as a child, young, at his mother's side. His mother who would hold infant Poppy, since no one else would. Him plaintively asking where his father is, because he does remember him, right? He was there, once before…

When he was a child, did he ever imagine himself in this mess? He didn't consider himself as vain, but when he has kids of his own, he'll have wicked stories to tell. If he lives to be a father.

He can only see the back of the man's head, but it's all too familiar. The hair color gives it away. The short, straight muzzy locks are completely accurate…it can't be…surely there's a chance that…

He turns around.

Jerome feels himself being plunged into a dark world of…darkness. This isn't the time to think of witty phrases! This is the time _to figure out why in the wide world of sports that __**Rufus Zeno**__ is standing in front of Jasper in a dark cloak!_

Yeah, he's dreaming.

"No, it can't be." He whispers out-loud, and it's his mistake. In every single one of his dreams, Rufus has superhuman senses built in so he can track Jerome. But Rufus's icy eyes are trained on Jasper, with such an intense hatred that if looks could kill, Jasper would be buried six feet under. Still, Jasper holds his ground. Because Jasper has never seen this man before. This may just be a no-name face to the curious Egyptian artifact collector, but Jerome knows he's much more.

Wait, why is he analyzing this? He's dreaming. Rufus is dead—Jerome saw the obituary himself…

He pinches his arm. He's not dreaming.

He whispers the evil name that's laced with many sleepless nights and many frightened nerves.

_"Rufus."_

Rufus towers over Jasper, staring at him like the cowardly insect he is. All Jasper has done was running, and now Jerome understands. This was nothing amateur they were dealing with. This "Collector" was someone that wasn't bluffing. Jerome helped Jasper out, thinking that with all of his experience this wannabe frightening guy would be pulverized to bits under his watch.

But the man they were dealing with was very capable of mummifying you alive.

All of those nightmares, they are all rushing up to overwhelm Jerome. He now knows what he is truly getting into.

_"That's impossible."_ Jerome cries out, his voice too low to be heard. Rufus turns away from Jasper and goes back into his car, the un-hooding meaning nothing towards Trudy's rescue.

_"No…"_ His is unable to control his moaning now; luckily he was keeping it all a whisper. Rufus drives away in the direction of his hiding spot, and Jerome ducks behind the trashed tires. He wonders if this useful, or if Rufus can see right through the burnt rubber with those eyes of his…

"Jerome!" Jasper begins to run towards Jerome. Jerome can't even hear it, all he can see is a pulsing black haze covering his vision, slowly narrowing and narrowing until he can't see.

_"He was dead…"_

_"Jerome!" _Jasper screams out, breaking Jerome out of his haze. Everything that is at stake rushes at Jerome in lightning speed, and he scrambles to his feet. The reality of the situation threatens to overcome him, but he can't back down. He needs to be a player in this, no matter how difficult it can be.

"He isn't getting away with it _this_ time!" Jasper snarls. He gets into his own car, and Jerome forces himself to follow. He doesn't have time to think it through. He doesn't have time to think _anything_ through. Trudy has been kidnapped—just as Rufus has kidnapped before. Why didn't he see this coming? Well, it doesn't matter now. It's time for a rescue mission.

* * *

><p>Jerome slowly steps onto soft grass as he creeps forward, right behind Jasper. The stained bricks remind him of him and Rufus's old meeting place—they couldn't be far from it. Is that were Rufus was hiding? Cooped up in the old brick prison, plotting all of this?<p>

_There's no time to think about that!_ Jerome hisses.

He can see Rufus taking the dollhouse out of his truck. He hears Jasper whisper.

"Got him. But who is he? I've never seen him on the antique circuit."

Jerome takes a deep breath before saying, "You might know him as Rene Zeldman."

_"Rene Zeldman?"_ Jerome can feel Jasper stiffen under his touch as he tries to run at him, but he keeps him restrained.

"No, don't!" He whispers to him. Jerome is sure he can take down the man—the gray hairs are now noticeably visible—but they can't make any ruckus.

"But Trudy's in there—"

"Just stay there, Jasper!" Jerome begs. "You…you don't know what this man is capable of! He is pure…evil…"

Rufus turns around, raking his unearthly gaze over every inch of everything. Jerome feels his mind whirling. They're going to have to leave Trudy here. He pictures the sweet woman with her warm brown eyes and how she would never leave any child behind with this maniac.

_I'm sorry, Trudy._ Jerome says silently, hoping she'd find a way to hear. _I'll come back for you, I promise._

* * *

><p>Jerome stumbles into his bedroom. The entire day he has been strong and a fighter. Trudy is still in Rufus's grasp, but they're a step closer. But now…but now he's alone. Now the full potency on the situation is filling his head with all sorts of horrible thoughts.<p>

Rufus…Rufus promised him that he would mummify him if he double-crossed him. Well…Jerome did, but he was never caught. Rufus obviously knew now.

Is he going to cry? He might as well now. He couldn't cry in front of Jasper, but now he's alone. He doesn't want to live an expressionless life, but he needs to be strong here. Just as strong as—

_—Patricia! _He buries his head in his hands and shudders. He hadn't even thought about her until now! She just told him a week earlier that Rufus would return! She knew it… How can he tell her? How can he look her in her eyes and tell her that the man who kidnapped her is back? He feels so stressed, he can almost hear Rufus's underserved breathing.

He pauses.

He _does_ hear breathing.

He turns his head slowly, knowing he wouldn't see anything.

Then why are two teenagers standing before him with narrowed eyes?

_Get your game face on!_ He commands himself. He stares at both Alfie and Amber, trying to lighten himself up. "Is this a raid?"

"Sit down, 'buddy'." Alfie commands. Jerome gives his best friend a weird look, but Alfie won't budge. "We've got something to talk to you about."

Jerome gives a nervous laugh, wondering if this was nothing or if this was everything. Alfie and Amber walk up to him, knowingly blocking his sides so Jerome can't make a hasty escape. Alfie opens the laptop he was carrying and shows Jerome the picture.

Him, Jerome. Carrying the dollhouse out of the building.

Caught!

"Please tell me this isn't as bad as it looks." Alfie says sternly. Well, it's clearly bad to begin with. Now he has to tell them—he has to tell all of them the truth now.

Could they handle it?

Jerome speaks. "It's actually much worse."

* * *

><p>"There you are! Jerome has something to tell you!" Amber whines as her and Alfie walk over to the rest of the group, which consisted of Patricia, Nina, and Fabian. Jerome follows, teeth gritted, a deer caught in headlights. Amber's tattletale reminded him of Poppy when she was little, but that's beside the point.<p>

"Tell him." Alfie growls as Jerome takes his spot in-between both of them.

"Jerome took the dollhouse!" Amber cries out before Jerome has a chance to speak.

"What?" Nina says in disbelief.

"Sorry, you tell them." Amber mutters.

Their gazes switch to Jerome. Time to speak.

"I took the dollhouse." He says simply.

"But-but-why?" Nina gets out. Fabian stands behind her, glaring at him. Patricia's eyebrows are raised—just as she always hides her emotions.

"There's more." Alfie mutters.

"It was for Jasper!" Amber cries out again.

They turn around to glare at her.

"Sorry…" Amber murmurs.

"I knew it…" The rage on Fabian's face grows and grows until he is almost shouting. "I knew it! Why would he do that?"

Jerome tries to speak, but Amber interrupts again.

"Because he was being blackmailed!" Amber almost screams.

"Amber!" Alfie snarls.

"Sorry, sorry…" She muses again.

"Jasper is not the bad guy." Jerome says quietly. "Jasper was being blackmailed by the person who kidnapped Trudy."

"What?" They all say at the same time.

"Vera…Vera is his agent." Jerome murmurs. He doesn't want to say his name. Not yet. But he has to…

"Who's agent, Jerome?" Nina demands.

Jerome gazes at the three faces in front of him. Two look clueless, but the redhead who hasn't breathed a word was staring at him with such an intensity…the words finally come out of his mouth, laced with fear and more fear.

He stares directly at Patricia's face as he says it.

"Rufus is back."

He can't comprehend anything, except for the fear that flashes in Patricia's eyes. He has never seen anyone look so afraid before in his life. But she's like him—she can't show fear now, not when there's so much on the line.

Jerome hears Nina begin to cry out and make a scene, and he feels furious. Who does she think she is, thinking she has the right to be petrified! Sure, everyone in here was held hostage for a few hours by Rufus, but they weren't kidnapped or used for days! Jerome ignores Nina and stares at Patricia, willing for her to say something. Anything. _Please, Trixie!_

Maybe she needs more convincing. "Trust me, he's alive and well." He says to Nina slowly. "All I know is…if he doesn't get what he wants…Trudy is d—"

The intense fear that flashes in everyone's eyes forces him to reword his next statement. "Trudy is in big trouble."

Patricia blinks herself out of the haze. "W-What does he want?" She says in her usual voice, trying to hide it, trying to hide everything…

"Something in the house. He's been searching high and low for anything and everything Forshibsher." Jerome tells Patricia. "That's why he wanted the dollhouse."

"Not to play with dolls…" Amber muses.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He doesn't look at Patricia while he says it, but the words were for her. She deserved to know, more than anyone here. "There was too much at risk…"

* * *

><p>It's two in the morning, and Jerome has run out of his secret supply of Mountain Dew. He needs caffeine—he wants it, he craves it, he needs it. If he doesn't get it, he will fall asleep, and the nightmares might be enough to kill whatever sanity is left. He can't sleep…he can't…<p>

He goes downstairs, heading straight for the refrigerator, but not looking for whipped cream. There has to be some kind of pop—any kind. His gaze softens when he sees cans of soda, and his hand encloses around one.

"Hand me one too, yeah?"

He jumps at the voice. "Stop doing that." He bites back another sharp comment and grabs two cans, the moonlight being the only light. "Here."

"Thank you." She murmurs.

He sits beside her. "Not sleeping either?"

"He'd be in my dreams." She whispers.

"Trixie…" Jerome wants to say something—anything. But there are no words to comfort her, or him.

"What are we going to do, Jerome?" Patricia asks quietly.

"I…I don't know…" He half-whimpers. "We're going to have to stay strong…just until we save Trudy—"

"Until we bring him down." Patricia growls. "Then we can relax."

"I can't believe he's alive."

"I can. He's like Satan." Patricia growls. "With creepier eyes."

They sit in silence for a while, silently drinking the Mountain Dew. Jerome feels his skin tingling once again, and he imagines Rufus poised in the darkness, watching their every move. He's about to ask Patricia if he can turn on the light before she speaks.

"Can you turn on the light? I'm starting to freak out…" Patricia mutters. Jerome stands up and flicks the switch. His breath catches in his throat.

Patricia is sitting there, curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her make-up is smeared, but not from crying. Jerome hasn't cried yet either—he's too _shocked_ to cry. But her eyes…her eyes were about as empty as they could be. They weren't fixed on him; they were fixed on some point in space. All around her are empty cans of pop, all crinkled up.

Jerome wonders how he looks. He feels just about as empty as she looks. Too tired. Too numb. The only thing keeping them going was determination.

"You've looked better." Patricia murmurs, staring him up and down.

"Can say the same thing about you." He shoots back.

"He's going to kill us all, isn't he?" Patricia says in a monotone voice.

"Perhaps." Jerome shrugs. "To be honest, I'd rather it be me then someone else."

"Rufus doesn't roll that way. He won't kill one or the other. He'd kill all of us if he had the chance." Patricia shrugs. "Unless he wants to use us as puppets again."

"Which he probably will." Jerome adds.

Patricia digs her fingernails into her palms. "Sometimes, after I dream of him, I wish that I could have been the one to take his life away. That's what's keeping me going right now. I want to be the one who does it, or if it isn't me, I want to see it. I want to see a body this time."

Jerome stares at Patricia for a while. Her blue eyes are trained into space, the light glinting off the depths. "That's what we're shooting for. If he had a gun and all of us were in line, we'd be the first two to go, you know that right?"

"I'd rather that, actually." Jerome says. "Every time I dream…someone else is there with me. Like Poppy, or my mother, or sometimes Alfie."

"Same. Most of the time, it's Joy. And then there was Eddie…" She trails off.

Jerome looks over at her.

"I wish I could protect the innocent ones in the house. Like Mara, and Eddie. They didn't do anything, but why does Rufus threaten Eddie in my dreams?" Patricia blinks several times.

Jerome stares at Patricia at the mention of Eddie. "You've never felt this way before, have you?"

"I don't know. But it sucks, is what it is. Why would anyone want to feel this way?" Patricia mutters.

"It does suck." Jerome chuckles. "I never thought I'd see the day where Patricia actually cared for someone that way."

"Oh, up yours." Patricia crosses her arms over her chest. "Now do you see why I do what I do?"

"Do what?"

"Act this way. When people can see right through you, then they see what you really are. If Rufus knew how terrified I was, then what? He'd have an advantage."

"It's a smart idea," Jerome admits. "You think we can pull it off?"

"Not forever. Hopefully long enough to bring Rufus down."

Jerome nods, understanding her point of view.

"Then that's what we'll do. We'll keep our force-fields up." Jerome says.

"When you think about it, Jerome." Patricia says in a soft, almost amused voice. "That's the only thing we can do in these times."

**(A/N: This is the last chapter until maybe the end of the series. I was right, Rufus is the collector :P :D that is all.)**


End file.
